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In Marshside Lea, there stood a tree, old in trunk and bough 'Twas long ago, this tale, although, it may still stand there now And in its shade, the young sheep played as often did young lambs Whilst in the eye, always nearby, of their respective dams One sunny day in early May beneath that ancient tree Sheep upturned eyes to their surprise saw in the canopy A woolly white unsheeply light, a vision uncompared To which sheep sense and innocence was largely unprepared Beyond the norm, a sheeply form stood high in proudly stead The sainted glow of a bright halo glister’d round its head A sheep of peace and from its fleece there grew out feathered things Which caused a shock within the flock; this noble sheep had wings ! ‘Hark Sheep’, it said, ‘be not in dread. I see where evil lurks’ ‘I now pronounce: Lo Sheep! Renounce, Satan and his Works!’ At first bemused and then confused, the flock all looked about But could not find, of any kind, a Satan to cast out ‘O Sheep, Repent, O Sheep Relent, O Sheep Embrace Your God!’ The woolly horde with one accord decided this was odd ‘O Sheep, you need to give up Greed, base Lust and Sinful Pride’ At this reproof, a shamed sheep hoofed a carrot to one side. ‘Abide with this, Sloth, Avarice and Envy, give no heed’ ‘Keep thou free from Gluttony, and let not Wrath impede’ The sheep were getting listless now, but unsure what to do While getting bored, most was ignored, but Wrath was something new! Then from the fold, there stepped a bold old ram towards the tree And bravely spoke into the oak's o'erspreading canopy, 'Oh Sheep of Might, and Holy Light, we would not give offense, But we can take, from what you've spake, very little sense!' We're kind of slow of think, y'know,but this is far too steep Why'd we be heeding special pleading of a feathered sheep?' 'Oh Foolish Ram, you think I am to stoop into a lie For I, forsooth, do bring you truth from Him up in the sky' The flock, unhumbled, grumply mumbled back into the tree 'We don't know you, or what is true, and tell us, Who Him Be?' The strange sheep frowned, 'I have come down, to raise you all on high. Increase your worth from mundane earth to blue unfettered sky!' The sheep alarmed, were less than calmed, they gathered in a bunch Lest they be raised, from where they grazed, too far above their lunch They did not care for beasts of air, those simple beasts of field And likewise not to leave their lot, nor one grass blade to yield 'You foolish few, you could be new recruited Lambs of God!' The foolish few, reformed anew, into a woolly squad And with a bleat,the mob complete rushed mad into the tree Enough to rock the tree with shock into the canopy The trunk below stood firm, although, the higher branches shivered The strange sheep glanced with looks askance as all about it quivered Its four hooves slipped, his unsure grip upon the perch fell loose Down from the tree, the flock could see, the wings were not much use Brought down to earth, the prophet's worth seemed lesser than before The saintly glow dulled down below when perched upon a floor Now not so high to the ovine eye the woolly wretch appeared Lowly, forlorn, and badly shorn and short and seemed afeared Sheep are simple in their ways With intellect unblessed When they cast up their sheeply gaze They tend to be impressed For what is higher than a sheep Maybe deserves renown But lower things are in their keep And seen by looking down. Looking up, the tarnished tup, beheld a flustered flock His strange foray confused their day - he feared a mood amok, Found through the fray, a way away, and hooved it through the dust Wool wits agape at his escape, the flock were left nonplussed The woolly wight pursued its flight towards the setting sun Its wings were clearly useless things when fleeing need be done They lay concealed as, ‘cross the field, it leapt a further fence The sheep were caught in shallow thoughts that failed to render sense Sheep do not puzzle long on stuff However odd it seems One puzzled thought is quite enough To upset woolly dreams And so the strangeness that had passed Without a why, or what In woolly minds could not long last And soon was just forgot.

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The Miracle of Marshside Lea

In Marshside Lea, there stood a tree, old in trunk and bough 'Twas long ago, this tale, although, it may still stand there now And in its shade, the young sheep played as often did young lambs Whilst in the eye, always nearby, of their respective dams One sunny day in early May beneath that ancient tree Sheep upturned eyes to their surprise saw in the canopy A woolly white unsheeply light, a vision uncompared To which sheep sense and innocence was largely unprepared Beyond the norm, a sheeply form stood high in proudly stead The sainted glow of a bright halo glister’d round its head A sheep of peace and from its fleece there grew out feathered things Which caused a shock within the flock; this noble sheep had wings ! ‘Hark Sheep’, it said, ‘be not in dread. I see where evil lurks’ ‘I now pronounce: Lo Sheep! Renounce, Satan and his Works!’ At first bemused and then confused, the flock all looked about But could not find, of any kind, a Satan to cast out ‘O Sheep, Repent, O Sheep Relent, O Sheep Embrace Your God!’ The woolly horde with one accord decided this was odd ‘O Sheep, you need to give up Greed, base Lust and Sinful Pride’ At this reproof, a shamed sheep hoofed a carrot to one side. ‘Abide with this, Sloth, Avarice and Envy, give no heed’ ‘Keep thou free from Gluttony, and let not Wrath impede’ The sheep were getting listless now, but unsure what to do While getting bored, most was ignored, but Wrath was something new! Then from the fold, there stepped a bold old ram towards the tree And bravely spoke into the oak's o'erspreading canopy, 'Oh Sheep of Might, and Holy Light, we would not give offense, But we can take, from what you've spake, very little sense!' We're kind of slow of think, y'know,but this is far too steep Why'd we be heeding special pleading of a feathered sheep?' 'Oh Foolish Ram, you think I am to stoop into a lie For I, forsooth, do bring you truth from Him up in the sky' The flock, unhumbled, grumply mumbled back into the tree 'We don't know you, or what is true, and tell us, Who Him Be?' The strange sheep frowned, 'I have come down, to raise you all on high. Increase your worth from mundane earth to blue unfettered sky!' The sheep alarmed, were less than calmed, they gathered in a bunch Lest they be raised, from where they grazed, too far above their lunch They did not care for beasts of air, those simple beasts of field And likewise not to leave their lot, nor one grass blade to yield 'You foolish few, you could be new recruited Lambs of God!' The foolish few, reformed anew, into a woolly squad And with a bleat,the mob complete rushed mad into the tree Enough to rock the tree with shock into the canopy The trunk below stood firm, although, the higher branches shivered The strange sheep glanced with looks askance as all about it quivered Its four hooves slipped, his unsure grip upon the perch fell loose Down from the tree, the flock could see, the wings were not much use Brought down to earth, the prophet's worth seemed lesser than before The saintly glow dulled down below when perched upon a floor Now not so high to the ovine eye the woolly wretch appeared Lowly, forlorn, and badly shorn and short and seemed afeared Sheep are simple in their ways With intellect unblessed When they cast up their sheeply gaze They tend to be impressed For what is higher than a sheep Maybe deserves renown But lower things are in their keep And seen by looking down. Looking up, the tarnished tup, beheld a flustered flock His strange foray confused their day - he feared a mood amok, Found through the fray, a way away, and hooved it through the dust Wool wits agape at his escape, the flock were left nonplussed The woolly wight pursued its flight towards the setting sun Its wings were clearly useless things when fleeing need be done They lay concealed as, ‘cross the field, it leapt a further fence The sheep were caught in shallow thoughts that failed to render sense Sheep do not puzzle long on stuff However odd it seems One puzzled thought is quite enough To upset woolly dreams And so the strangeness that had passed Without a why, or what In woolly minds could not long last And soon was just forgot.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things